The Weight of Living

In a few short months it will have been one year since I’ve started this blog. My ultimate goal was to feel better, and I am happy to say that a few short months from my “goal” I am feeling genuinely happy. The thing is, happiness isn’t stopping certain thoughts. 

I think I have always felt emotions a little differently than the people I grew up around. My personality as a whole has been more “down” than most people’s, and its natural for me. I don’t know if anyone could ever understand what I mean by that, but as long as I know that is all that matters.

Growing up I remember very vividly moments where people have acknowledged my personality. They almost always assumed I was depressed or a bitch because I liked to keep to myself, and I still give off the same impressions today. The only difference today is, I am depressed. I might be a bitch, but I am definitely depressed.

Why? Why did I develop depression? Maybe it’s genetics. Maybe not. I don’t know, and I probably never will.

I’d like to believe that my depression and anxiety both stem from genetics, that way I have someone to blame, mom and dad! But putting the blame on someone else is never a way to solve your problems, so I won’t do that (even if it is one day proven that it is 100% genetics).

Most days I think that I am too smart for my own good. My brain knows about the bad in the world, and simply doesn’t think life is worth living in this world. Maybe I think too much about the things that might not even matter, but those things weigh heavy on my brain and my heart and give me those suicidal thoughts.

Now these things that I keep mentioning vary. I know that some of them are actual real life issues that are affecting the human race and this planet as a whole, and others are as simple as people not following the rules of the road when I’m driving home from work. Whether its big or small doesn’t matter, they all weigh the same on me. Heavy. As. Fuck.

So just imagine EVERY SINGLE ISSUE in the world, big and small. That is the weight on my shoulders. That is the weight I just can’t shake, no matter what I do. It holds me back in my day-to-day life and it is holding me back from a good future. I can’t stop thinking about these issues, about the actions of others, about the straight stupidity of others that is destroying this world. It pisses me off to no end. I wish I could vent about these things to someone, I wish I could vent about these things to the people who are doing them. I wish I could educate every single person on this planet who is doing something that is causing more harm than good, or is GOING to cause more harm than good. I wish I could say all of these things, but without sounding like I’m full of myself, or a know-it-all. I wish I could say these things without making people feel stupid, without sounding conceded or like I think I’m better than anyone else. Because I really don’t feel that way, I understand that I make mistakes all the time. I do bad things, I will own up to anything that I do. I just see people going about their daily lives in a fashion that I just see as so wrong, and I know that I can’t change people like that, but it would be so nice if I could. At least on the things that put my life and other’s at risk.

Maybe I will start a new blog strictly venting about these things that I think about. Maybe that will help me.

Anyway, I feel like I went off about the weight on my shoulders. Back to the rest of this blog…

When I was growing up people would assume I was depressed. My brother’s (now ex) girlfriend even asked my other siblings if I was depressed. All because I liked to keep to myself. So, I guess what I’m getting at is that depression doesn’t give a fuck what your personality is like. I don’t think that if I was a more “bubbly” person that I wouldn’t be depressed. I don’t think people should assume that a smile on the outside means a smile on the inside, because it really doesn’t. People may be able to “see” my depression (or so they think, because back then I actually wasn’t depressed), but they can’t see it all. I know tons of people who are the happiest people you’ll ever meet, and they suffer every day with this. Even when I feel happy, it’s still there. In the back of my head, I’m still thinking that I’d rather be dead.

So, I’d rather be dead. Let’s talk about that.

It’s never like a “I’m going to kill myself right now” type of deal. It is just a thought that stays on my mind until I start thinking of ways to actually do it. Luckily, depression hasn’t completely taken over, and I can usually get those feelings to subside for a little bit. But I think about it a lot, almost every day of my life. Yeah, almost every day of my life I think to myself that I’d rather be dead.

I could be at work. Rather be dead.

Visiting my mom. Rather be dead.

Playing with my nieces and nephews. Rather be dead.

Loving my boyfriend. Rather be dead.

Snuggling my cat. Rather be dead.

Playing video games. Rather be dead.

Stargazing. Rather be dead.

I truly would rather be dead. I have never just completely come to terms with that until now. Until writing this particular blog and actually typing that out over and over again, it put me in a position just now where I am okay with having those thoughts. I don’t know if they will ever go away, but for now they’re there. 

I am and will continue to do everything in my power to never act on this feeling. But it’s definitely there, and I don’t want to pretend like it isn’t. 

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Author: Michele

I am a 23 year old from Rochester, NY just trying to fight the monster in my head.

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